


Echo

by LucasApollo



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 1950s, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Civil Rights Movement, Gay Rights, M/M, Maybe a happy ending, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Tragic events, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:55:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21910045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucasApollo/pseuds/LucasApollo
Summary: March, 1954: Dedue's PreludeScrawling blue and yellow neon text above the red basement door told Dedue the place was called Echo and he found himself walking down the steps built right into the alley before he even realised it. From his position on the small landing with a hand on the knob, Dedue could feel the warm, deep notes of a bass vibrating the metal door and the sharp, melodic notes of a chorus of brass instruments luring him in closer. The door was barely open an inch when he heard the smoothest voice he'd ever heard, the words dripping like honey, slow and sweet into his ears and beckoning him inside to the smokey room.
Relationships: Dedue Molinaro/OC, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Echo

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea floating around my brain for a long time already. A lot of research has gone into this, of both the civil rights movement and to keep as many things historically accurate as I can.
> 
> I haven't chosen an exact city or town for this fic, but I think it's going to remain quite vague, just someplace where the Jim Crow laws had a strong hold. 
> 
> When I say this is going to be a slow burn, I mean they ain't even gonna meet for a while here as I do this setup.

Dedue doesn't really remember his pops—a lot of the boys in his classes don't remember theirs either. He knows his face from the photos his ma kept. In some, the man was large and imposing in his military uniform, with a stern face and sharp green eyes. His white hair was cut into the standard military buzz cut instead of the traditional Duscur high ponytail. Or there's the other photos of him in traditional wear, swathed in beautiful teal, white, and orange patterns, gold jewellery hanging from his ears, wrist, and neck. He's often holding a small Dedue in those ones, or an even smaller Nina. He smiles brightly in those ones. 

Ma sold almost all of Pops' gold ages ago, along with all of the clothes made of finer materials, not too long after she got news that he didn't make it, once she'd had the time to grieve and realised she'd be raising two growing children on her own. The only exception being a single golden earring Dedue now wears in his left ear. 

"He fought for this country, for our freedoms," his ma would say, still says about him, tenderness and love in her dulled green eyes. Five years ago Dedue believed her, but now he wonders what freedoms his pops fought for, as his ma worked twelve hours a day, nine to nine, six days a week; as he sits with his sister in the back of the back of the bus, heading to the only school for 'colored folk' in the district. He'd never been more glad that red wasn't a traditional Duscur color, or else they'd have yet another thing to be picked apart for. 

Dedue knows he'll be dropping out as soon as he is able, get whatever job he can to help support his ma and let her take a break for once. He would do whatever it takes to give Nina the opportunity to an education she deserved. She was bright, and not only in that she was the brightest star in Dedue's galaxy. The books she takes out of the library were large, wordy and much above Dedue's reading level, even if they were largely worn out and sometimes outdated leftovers from the white side of the library. Nina is eleven and interested in maths and computers and many a large number of things that women weren't supposed to be interested in let alone women of Duscur.

But Dedue wouldn't be the one to let her know that. Not with how bright her teal eyes lit up as she explained and discussed topics that went right over his head as she took apart their radio or their old Luxor phonograph and put it back together for the hundredth time (but never the radio when their ma's favourite soaps played). They're lucky they don't currently own a television because there's no doubt she'd take that apart as well. 

So Dedue would work, would work long and hard and save every single penny he can to send his sister to the best college that would take her—who knows what the situation will be in the six years it'll take for her to graduate high school. Maybe they'll let a little chain reading colored girl study alongside the hare-brained white ones. Dedue tried not to get his hopes up.

"So Mr. Smith was tellin' us that color television is comin' out soon. Not that our school'll be gettin' one, but Jonah heard his ma's employer say that they'll be buyin' one for their family. Do ya think we could get a television soon? Not one of them fancy color ones of course, but twelve inch, no, even an eight inch black and white one would be enough."

"Little One…" Dedue was lost for the words to tell her that they couldn't afford it. That their ma barely scraped enough together for rent and bills each month and it hadn't escaped Dedue's notice that she'd been skipping meals to accommodate his growing hunger and height. 

"A second hand one would be good. I'd even take a broken one that I could tear apart to see how it worked. Our library section don't have no books that explain it."

Dedue sighed and rang the bell to get off at the next stop. "Maybe for your birthday," he concedes, and wonders how difficult it'd be to get a job. At a towering six feet tall he could probably lie about his age, he didn't look like a kid. He'd have to take a look around.

"But that's  _ months  _ away." 

"I could make you wait until Christmas."

———

The siblings parted ways at the front entrance to the school. Dedue reminding Nina not to overwhelm her teachers. 

"Well if they'd let me skip a couple o' grades then they wouldn't have to deal with me bein' bored and then call me uppity just because I want to read some harder books."

"You're smarter than you know Little One, just try not to attract too much attention to yourself."

Dedue smoothed the wavy, white bangs away from her face, wishing not for the first time that her hair and skin color were swapped. If that'd been the case she'd be learning from proper teachers that wouldn't put her down just for asking questions.

Dedue kept his head down in all of his classes. Did his work, didn't ask questions and got well enough grades. Nothing good comes to those who ask too many questions. He already stood out enough with his height and traditional name. Mr. Robinson, his homeroom teacher, seemed like a nice enough man where the other teachers openly looked down upon them, but he knew better. Knew to be wary of the nice ones in a position of power most of all. 

While Dedue wouldn't say he had a best friend, he spent his spare time with his ma or Nina, he could at least call a couple of the kids in his homeroom class friends at least. Ben and James were rowdier than Dedue was, which wasn't too hard, but they were kind and didn't seem to mind that he didn't want to play basketball or football or hit up arcades (the ones that would let them in, anyways).

"Dedue! Look at what I managed to get copies of! I knew saving all those pennies I found on the ground was worth it." Ben threw his backpack onto his usual desk and carefully placed the brown envelope that was in his arms on Dedue's desk. He opened it dramatically like any fourteen year old would once James arrived a couple minutes later. 

"Tada!" Ben exclaimed with a flourish once he finally pulled the stack of comics out.

James was practically vibrating in his seat. Dedue understood the excitement of such entertainment but rarely had the time to indulge himself when he had to take care of his sister and most of the household.

"Atomic Mouse!" James squealed, but would never admit he did, as he snatched up an issue and began reading in earnest.

Ben gently handed him the  [ first issue ](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Atomic_Mouse_issue_1.jpg) , as if reminding him that yes, he's his friend and welcome to join them. The bright colors of the cartoon mouse on the cover stared at him from its setting on Mars and couldn't help but wonder what Nina would say about it and its obvious inaccuracies.

Sadly, Dedue didn't get the time to open the issue before Mr. Robinson walked into the classroom to begin the day. With care he tucked the issue into one of his worn out textbooks in his desk and turned his attention to the front, comic forgotten for now.

———

They were standing at the back of the bus this time on their way back home, it wasn't full at the front, but all of the colored seats were taken. Nina refused any offers to give her their seat. "I already hafta sit all day, standin'll do me good," she would say, so Dedue held her hand tightly and protected her from the crowds. She was much too kind.

"There is something I need to do tonight, so I'll be taking you to Mrs. Montgomery's place. I should hopefully be back before ma is," Dedue told his sister. The sooner he could pick up a job the better.

Mrs. Montgomery was a wonderful elderly lady that lived next door to their apartment, she lost her husband ten years back and in her loneliness offered to watch the two of them whenever needed without cost to their ma. She never had any kids, but instead had a couple of cats that the two of them had loved to chase around the tiny apartment. That was before Dedue shot up to five feet by the time he was ten.

"Aww, but I wanted to go to the library!" Nina pouted, and Dedue didn't think he'd ever be fully immune to it.

"We went to the library yesterday. I'll take you tomorrow to get new books," Dedue compromised, Nina would go to the library every day if she could anyways, one day without wouldn't hurt.

"Alrigh', maybe Mrs. Montgomery will be up to makin' cookies. Ma could use some sweets, an' I'll share with you too I guess."

"You guess?" Dedue teased, "I'm wounded Little One, so cruel to your older brother." Dedue covered his heart with his free hand, but had trouble keeping a smile off his face. 

"Well I  _ have  _ to share with you, you're my brother, but ma gets most o' them."

"Of course, Little One, I'm sure Ma will appreciate the sweets."

———

With Nina under the safe care of Mrs. Montgomery, Dedue went back to their apartment and changed into his smartest clothes—the ones that fit him most properly—before heading out to search for a job. He was unsure of what kind of job he would be suited to. Something where he could talk to fewer people would be nice, and he was a decent enough cook when he had his ma's recipes. Nina had never complained about it anyways, so maybe there was kitchen looking for help.

Dedue was turned away from no less than twenty stores and restaurants, but he had stopped keeping count after the fifteenth. Whether it was because they didn't believe him when he said he was seventeen or because he was of Duscur, Dedue began to lose hope. He just wanted to get his sister something nice for her birthday, but it seemed luck was against him. 

He hugged his threadbare coat closer to himself. March was still cool once the sun began to set even if spring was well on its way and Dedue figured he may as well begin heading home. The roads were bathed in gold and then red as he made his way through the familiar streets, days of walking around to fill the time with his sister coming happily to mind. He turned the corner to a side road only to see a couple of coppers on patrol walking away from him, Colts hanging on their hips shining crimson in the evening sun. 

Dedue ducked into the nearest alley, holding his breath as he prayed to both the white man's Goddess and the Gods of Duscur that they hadn't noticed him turn in behind them. Taking a quick glance at his watch he noticed it was far past curfew and cursed his carelessness. A mark on his record would do their family no good, and that's if they didn't just shoot him first. 

When several minutes passed and no coppers came back and any sirens were blocks and blocks away from him Dedue finally took a deep breath before turning and continuing down the alley; he would be taking a long way home in order to avoid the police. 

It was in an alley ten minutes from his apartment complex that he saw a small, handwritten help wanted sign next to a neon  _ open _ sign in the window of a basement suite of a brick business building that had to be from the twenties. Scrawling blue and yellow neon text above the red basement door told Dedue the place was called  _ Echo  _ and he found himself walking down the steps built right into the alley before he even realised it. From his position on the small landing with a hand on the knob, Dedue could feel the warm, deep notes of a bass vibrating the metal door and the sharp, melodic notes of a chorus of brass instruments luring him in closer. The door was barely open an inch when he heard the smoothest voice he'd ever heard, the words dripping like honey, slow and sweet into his ears and beckoning him inside to the smokey room. 

The band stood across the room on a small stage putting them above the tops of worn red velvet couches and lounge chairs enough to be visible from all seating areas. A dark wood bar took up a large amount of left hand wall, staffed by two Duscur men in white dress shirts with the top two buttons undone and black slacks with red suspenders. Three more Duscur men walked around the floor dressed the same, two taking and delivering drink orders, another picking up empty glasses and replacing ashtrays.

Dedue was distracted once again by the music from the band once he turned his eyes back to them. He stepped in further and took one of the only empty chairs with a small table in front of it. He couldn't keep his eyes off the man in the front singing his heart out. He didn't look much older than sixteen or seventeen, an air of youthfulness in the playful way he danced with the music, which had picked up the beat from the sultry tones of the tune he heard on the way in. His voice wasn't as deep as someone like Louis Armstrong, but his range was already impressive from what he'd heard already. The singers trumpet playing was near as good as his voice, dancing through melodies in the same youthful way his body had done just moments earlier. He was handsome too, and not like James Dean or other white actors. His skin was darker than most people of Duscur: as rich as a Hershey's milk chocolate bar, and his eyes were such striking aquamarines that Dedue could see them from across the room, even in the low light. White hair formed tight pin curls and the normally tied back portion of the traditional haircut was free from ties and moved with him in every dance step and swing of a trumpet. Dedue had heard of hypnotists on the radio programmes, and he was almost certain this man was one of them. How else could he explain the way his eyes couldn't help but follow the man's every move? 

So distracted was Dedue by the young man on the stage, he nearly jumped when one of the men collecting drink orders tapped him lightly on the shoulder to grab his attention. 

"Is there anything I can help you with?" The waiter asked politely. 

Dedue had almost forgotten why he'd come here in the first place, and felt uncharacteristically flustered by the innocent question.

"I'm sorry," Dedue said as evenly as he could even though he could feel his cheeks heat up, "I actually came in to inquire about the help wanted sign."

"Ah," the man straightened up,looking Dedue up and down before beckoning for Dedue to follow as he signaled to the other waitstaff. He took him to a side door he hadn't even noticed that was painted to match the wall 

"And how old are you?" The man asked once they were through the door into a narrow, dimly lit hallway. The walls were painted a navy blue, and the dark green carpeting looked like it was as old as the building. 

"Seventeen, sir." Dedue replied.

The man hummed as though he didn't quite believe him, even if Dedue was taller than him. "We're looking for a dishwasher, minimum wage. You'd begin at eight pm and end at midnight Wednesday through Sunday. Can you do that?" 

Dedue nodded as they went through another door that lead to a small office. "Yes sir, I live a quick walk from here."

"Excellent." He rifled through a small filing cabinet and pulled out a single piece of paper. "If you could fill this form out and bring it to me tomorrow you can even begin tomorrow night. I'll walk you back to the front but you should probably head home, it's well past curfew and you'll have a lot of time to enjoy the band from here on out."

"What's that singers name?" Dedue asked without thinking.

The older man smirked. "That's Zachariah Belandi, but everyone calls him Zack. Watch out for that one though, he's a troublemaker."

Dedue took one last look at the energetic man on stage, dancing in a circle as he played his silver trumpet, his bright eyes closed as if in prayer. Dedue absentmindedly wondered which God or Goddess he prayed to.


End file.
